Every morning and every day,
If you’re still saying El Roi (God Who Sees),
You know you’re still in the best of hands.

My world
Is just me and my glass castle,
It seems.
Though every so often,
I can make a glass panel swing out
And I can pop out an arm or leg –
Barely enough to be seen.

And every day,
I try to believe that I’m more or less broken,
As that seems to be comforting,
Though really each day’s pain is likely the same.

I’m allowed to be thankful for closed doors.
They’re truly a blessing in disguise.
They're an indication of His sovereignty,
Our hope, and our being human –
Indeed, they're a fragile opportunity to beautifully let go.